


The Big Come Down

by Janecat



Series: Alone With You [11]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Angst, M/M, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-19
Updated: 2012-10-19
Packaged: 2017-11-16 15:07:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/540779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janecat/pseuds/Janecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last installment of the series.  <em>Dick's not scared, not if this will fix it all.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Big Come Down

Dick thinks about how things could have been. What would this last year have been like if he had won against Jason that long time ago. Tim and Damian would be fighting alongside him and he- he would be Batman. His hesitance to take up the mantle had cost him more than he could have ever anticipated. Battered and bloody he had found himself in an ice cold room, a numbing ache already settling in his bones. He fought. Jason took his clothes, his blankets, and left him to freeze.   
Things began to change, his brother didn't only want to keep him prisoner, he wanted him to break. Dick started to crave the other man's presence. The rough hands that manipulated his body also brought warmth and he'd stop shivering, if only for a moment. He'd give in, just a bit, just enough, it didn't mean anything, or so he told himself. Weeks passed. Months. There was no rescue, no escape, he was all alone. Except for Jason.  
It was inevitable, looking back, the transition from his cot to Jason's bed. Dick needed the comfort, the closeness of someone next to him. He may have hated himself for it but he did it anyway. Soon enough he stopped fighting too.  
The icy air strikes his face as he flies from building to building. Adrenaline coursing through him, he can see his destination ahead of him. Not far now. He knows Jason and Tim are behind him, briefly wonders if the younger of the two called for backup. There's no sign of Bruce's looming shadow and even if there was Dick isn't stopping. He shuts his eyes during the next swing soaking in the feeling, flying, it's amazing.   
Months ago he would have been too weak to do this. Thin, frail, and past the point of exhaustion. Jason had held him together then, even if he was the one who brought him to that state in the first place. And then he broke, pieces of himself never to go back the way they once did. He saw a new future, one with Jason and went for it. There was pain and hurt but there were also moments that Dick could only label as pure caring.   
It's something he could never explain to his family. Maybe because he couldn't entirely explain it to himself. The need for his touch, to have someone's focus solely on him. To be held so tightly he can barely breathe. It doesn't make sense. Love isn't supposed to, he thinks, and- is this love? It's a word he's been hesitant with, scared of even. There's no turning back from it, much like what he's doing now. Maybe love isn't such a crazy word after all. Jason's chasing him, that has to mean something.  
Tim wants to bring him home, wants to get him back to the way he was. Dick understands the pain his younger brother is feeling, doesn't doubt he'd do the same if the roles were reversed. Dick wants to apologize and tell him everything is going to be OK, but he knows Tim won't believe him.   
When Dick lands he keeps running, the far left lane on the the Kane bridge has been closed off. He couldn't have planned it better himself. He slows down then finally stops, catching his breath, he can hear the other two approach.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Jason didn't have time to grab his cowl during the chase, good. Dick wants to see his face.

“It's the bridge home. The manor or Gotham, depending on how you look at it. I guess I still have a thing for theatrics.” his voice is soft, calm.

Tim's on edge ready for attack, Jason's eyes are set on Dick, he inhales the acidic taste of Gotham and salty ocean air from the sea under them. His mind is racing yet- it's completely clear. It's all a matter of letting the pieces fall in place. He can fix this.

He steps nearer to Jason, looking over to Tim, “I don't want anymore fighting. I'm telling you to go home and let me decide what I want.” 

Tim's had the time to pull up his cowl, his eyes hidden expressing nothing but his stance tells him everything, “I'm not leaving without you. He's made you think this way. It isn't you.” 

Jason begins to speak when Dick puts a hand on his chest stilling him. Dick's a little amazed it works, wonders if Jason is thinking the same thing. 

He drops his hand, “He's made me do a lot of things... but this is my choice.” 

“You can't-”

“You heard him, get the fuck out of here before I throw you off the bridge my damn self.” Jason says, and Dick wishes there was an easier way.

Dick feels himself being pushed to the side as Jason meets Tim's sudden charge. He stumbles back nearly falling into the oncoming traffic watching the two fight. Jason's getting in too many hits, he has to stop this. He doesn't want to hurt Jason but he needs to get him away before things get worse, before his chance escapes him. Suddenly they're grappling, he shoves Jason back before Tim can help him.

“You finish it or I will!” Jason yells. 

The lives they lead are ones where sometimes decisions are made up in the moment. That thought doesn't make clocking Tim in the jaw and kneeing him in the stomach any easier. Dick sends the teen down hard onto the pavement, he winces at the sound of Tim coughing up blood. He kneels beside his brother, there's so much he wants to say. Dick never wanted to hurt anyone, especially Tim. He wants him to understand, he doesn’t need protection or saving, the time for that has long past. Things have changed.

“I'm sorry, but I need you to stay down. Please.”

“Don't go with him.” Tim’s lips are stained red, blood, all Dick’s doing. He’s screwed up so much. The pain needs to end.

He wants to pull Tim's cowl back, look him the eyes properly, instead his hand reaches and undoes Tim's bandoliers, “The tracker's in here I'm assuming? I'm gonna need it.” 

“Dick,-”

“You're too stubborn, you know.” a sad smile crosses his lips, “Everything will be OK.”

“Why are you doing this?” and the hurt in Tim's voice is almost too much.

He blinks and takes another breath, “I love you, Tim. Please remember that.”

He makes to leave and when Tim tries to push himself up he kicks him back down. He wants to throw up. It's for the best and maybe one day Tim will understand that, but- he probably won't. He collects himself as he steps back over to Jason, _everything will be OK_. He listens to the cars driving by, it's almost funny at how normal this kind of scene has become to the people of Gotham. Just another night, nothing of note.

Dick looks up at Jason, “Kiss me? Please?”

The younger man takes his lips and it's perfect. It's warm and wet, Jason's tongue glides over his, a quiet moan rolls up and out of his throat. He doesn't want it to end but, he needs it to. A quick hand slipping from one of the pockets from Tim's bandoliers and a taser goes off into Jason's shoulder. In the few seconds it takes Jason to rip away the device Dick has moved on to the last step. The pieces don't always fall the way that's expected or desired but Dick has learned there is always a way even when it isn't pleasant. He stands carefully balanced on the railing back to the ocean below him, watches as Jason freezes in place and Tim struggles to get up again.

“It's OK, everything is gonna be fine.” he’s not completely sure who he's talking to Jason or Tim. Maybe a little to himself, of all things falling, it's fitting in a way. He's not scared, not if this will fix it all.

“Get down.” Jason commands. There’s an odd edge in his tone Dick is trying to decipher, it’s- no, it couldn’t be.

“I can't.” his voice quiet and then he sees it in Jason's eyes, worry. Actual worry. His lips twitch, everything in him tells him to step down but he keeps still, “I knew you cared, it's nice to finally see it. Took a bit huh?”

Jason takes a step forward, stops when Dick outstretches his arms, “Just come here.” 

Sacrifice is a word Dick learned early on. The noise has gotten so loud and the family is curling in on itself. It all can be righted, if he just steps out of frame. He smiles, shuts his eyes, and falls back. For a moment it almost feels like swinging between buildings and then suddenly it stops. A harsh tug pulls at his leg and he's hanging in mid air. He looks up at sees Jason, his expression mostly angry but there's some relief hidden in his eyes. Dick wants to kiss him again, laughs at the thought. 

“It'll be better this way, I promise!” and he's grateful that Tim is always overly prepared as he slips a batarang from another pocket.

“Don't you fucking dare-!” Dick sends out the batarang and the line breaks.

Falling’s not so bad, he thinks, as he plummets to the murky ocean below. Dick lets the air take him, lets the water swallow him whole.

 

**\- One year later -**

Jason's base is long gone, he's moved to one of his safe houses. It takes time to find but time is something he has in abundance these days. Jason's also given up the fight to be Batman in favor of returning back into the Red Hood. His methods haven't changed much but there's an apathetic way about them now. It looks like him checking in and out of a job he barely wants anymore. Going through the motions.  
There's a loud clunk of his helmet hitting the wooden floor of his apartment. Then his boots, and finally the sound of him dropping onto the sofa. Jason's eyes are closed, he looks tired, a bit worn.

He raises a gun toward the hallway, “I heard you, you-” his eyes open and the gun drops.

“I'll be in your room.” Dick simply says and walks down the hallway.

Dick doesn't have to wait long, Jason emerges seconds after he takes a seat on the bed.

“So this was your plan? Fake your death? Not all that unique for you.”

“Nothing fake about it.” just the close proximity to the other man makes his mind swirl, if he thought a week away from Jason was bad a year had been utterly painful, in a lot of ways. “I should thank you, your line made the fall a little less.”

“Well you can go fuck yourself. In fact, you can get the fuck out.” The anger is there but it’s missing the ferocity it should have.

“You don't really want me to. We both know that.” it's hard to sound so confident when he feels so unsure around Jason, he did what he had to. It was the best choice, the only choice really.

It's a blink of an eye maybe less and Jason's on him pushing him up on the bed until they're in a better position. It's like slipping into a memory, Jason's hands so strong and rough as his shirt is all but torn off him. Their lips crash together, break apart in gasps, and meet again. Jason moves from his lips to his neck, moving along his collar, he reaches his shoulder and stops. The bite is still there though now a finally healed scar. Jason plants a kiss onto the scar and works on unfastening their pants. He gestures his head to the nightstand and Dick rummages his hand in the drawer until he finds a bottle of lube and hands it to Jason.  
He groans as fingers enter him, they don't stay long, Jason isn't waiting and Dick doesn't want him to. There were nights these past twelve months where Dick worried he'd forget the sensation of Jason inside him. The slick hard heat thrusting inside him making Dick a moaning twitching mess. He knows now he never will.

Jason wraps a hand around his neck, “You think you can come back and I'll just take you in?”

The hand clenches, fingers gripping tight, Dick can't answer, can't breathe. Jason moves faster, holding tighter as Dick tries to move his hand away, thrusts harder even. It's when he feels himself begin to slip out of consciousness that Jason releases his grip. His knees are pushed to his chest as Jason pumps into him a few more times before he comes, the low growl that that falls from his lips makes a shiver run up Dick’s spine. 

He pulls out, both men slightly panting, he looks at Dick's neck, “You'll have bruises.”

“Good.” he says and maybe it's a bit scary but Dick has missed waking up to new marks left by the other man. It makes a heat rise within him. Makes his own hard unnoticed cock pulse.

Jason smirks and runs a thumb over it, “You don't deserve it, not yet. Who else knows you're alive?”

“No one else, yet.”

“Yet?”

“I was- I was thinking of telling Tim at some point.” he quietly says, “There's been enough time, he'll understand.”

Jason glares at him, “Yea cause killing yourself didn't wreck the kid and you just showing up won't send him over the edge. Start a whole fucking new mess of shit.”

“Are you talking about him or you?” the words slip out before Dick can stop them.

In the year he's been gone he's gotten little bits of himself back, tiny fragments of an old spark. Jason’s face changes from anger to a calculated look and Dick doesn't flinch away, knows better. He feels fingers trace lines down his member and for a moment he's confused until the feeling is replaced with a painful twisting squeeze around his balls, he grits his teeth trying to contain the cry from his throat.

“I wasted a year looking for you. You came here first, and you're not leaving until I say you do.” Jason lets go and drops to lay beside Dick.

Dick takes a moment, allowing air into his lungs, then turns to Jason and slips into his arms. This is how things work. The two of them are a mess of broken pieces hastily glued back together. A snake eating its own tail. They are imperfect in every sense of the word. But when they're together like this, Jason's arm around his waist, none of that matters. Together like this, Dick thinks, they're a perfect fit.


End file.
